Ruby Ann

Ruby Ann born still 15/02/2009

It's hard to know where to start Ruby's story. But I have decided to start at the point where she became an idea.

I was 22. I had Jack at home at the curious, funny age of 3. He was growing into a little boy and Pat and I had decided it was time to give him a sibling and to complete our family. We fell pregnant almost straight away. Living in a rented house in the suburbs at the time with our Dog we decided it was time to make our dream well and truly complete and buy our own little house to make a home.

Over the early months of being pregnant I continued to work and spent time with Jack. On weekends the three of us would drive out to the leafy rural suburb of Bacchus Marsh where we'd decided to create our new life in search of our dream home.

We eventually found it. A tiny little three bedroom weatherboard home that needed a lot of work. But it was a big block, with wide streets, a hospital around the corner, milk bar within walking distance, great schools, a creek at the end of the street and it was quiet. We felt at home there. This was where we would bring our new baby home.

Pat worked incredibly hard, we both did. We wanted everything to be perfect. And it was going to be, we had no doubt about that. Jack started kinder, he made friends... so did Pat and I. As my belly grew with Ruby excitement grew amongst myself and my friends. We knew it was a little girl, and we knew what she'd be called.

Jack came to every appointment, he heard his sister's heart beat, he felt her kick, he saw her ultrasounds. He told everyone what a great big brother he would be. As the months went on, I stopped gaining weight, her movements didn't increase in strength and began decreasing in frequency. I knew that something was wrong, however guided by the hospital I pushed on believing that all would be ok in my perfect little world.

Up until about 30 weeks every appointment with Ruby had been fine. From that point on though it became apparent that she was small, I didn't know that until later on. There was alot I didn't know at the time. And a lot that I didn't question.

I continued to tell the midwives that I felt she wasn't moving enough, that something was wrong and I was constantly reassured and told that each baby is different and that I couldn't expect the same things of her as I did of Jack. I had to trust them, and I did.

On the 11th of February I went to the hospital to have her monitored as I hadn't felt her move much at all. A CTG was performed and whilst it showed variable decelerations I was sent home and told to return on the 14th of February.

On the 14th, Valentine's Day, I woke with Jack and we set about our day. We baked a heart shaped cake for Pat and left it to cool on the bench while we went to the hospital for our appointment.

When we arrived we were put into a room on our own and the midwife came into to perform the CTG. She couldn't find a heartbeat. She looked what seemed an eternity. And then she cried. She told us Ruby had died. Jack looked at me asking what had happened to his sister Ruby... "What's wrong mummy?" I tried my best to reassure him while we waited for the doctor to confirm the news. He cuddled up to me on the bed, one hand on my belly protecting his sister, the other on my shoulder while I read to him.

The doctor arrived and confirmed the news I had been dreading. My beautiful sweet little girl had died.

My first reaction was to protect Jack. I had to get him out of there fast. I called my family to come and collect him and asked the hospital to call Pat. Unfortunately we were unable to deliver Ruby there and I would have to go home to pack my things and drive to another hospital 45 minutes away.

Pat arrived just as Jack was whisked away out of a back door by his nanna, that would be the last time I saw his beautiful cherub face for 3 days.

Pat and I left the hospital and went back to our house. Our house with the blue room for Jack and the pink room for Ruby. Nothing felt magical about the house anymore... I went to Ruby's room and packed her clothes. Her little lace dresses and stockings. I packed my own clothes. Then I went and iced the cake I had baked with Jack that morning. I knew there would be lots of people coming to see us and they'd be hungry.

Pat's family were there, I didn't talk to them. I couldn't. I felt like such a failure, a disappointment. My job as a mother was to protect my baby and I hadn't done that.

We drove to the hospital where it was confirmed by Ultrasound that Ruby has gone and I was told that I would need to deliver her. I was given the option of going home to wait for labour to spontaneously happen or they could induce me to deliver her then. I chose to have her right away. I needed to see her, to hold her.

​The nurses put us in a private room on the delivery ward away from the other mothers. I was induced and left alone to wait for labour to start. It didn't take long. Pat eventually fell asleep and I wandered the corridors aimlessly dealing with the contractions as they came.

It was 4 hours before the nurses came to see us and I finally told them that labour had started, They didn't know what to say, or how to comfort me. Labour progressed quickly and before I knew it I was pushing. I was given morphine to help with the pain that I could administer myself at the push of a button. As Ruby had passed it posed no risk to her. I pushed it constantly, I didn't want to feel anything. I screamed. I knew what was coming. I knew she'd be born and there would be no cries heard. It was real.

At just after midnight my angel was born.

She was born inside her amniotic sac, perfect in every way. I remember looking at her face and her dark curly hair. She was the image of me. She had an adorable little button nose and perfect little lips. Nothing had tainted my precious girl. She knew no hate, she knew no pain. She only knew the love I had for her.

After the nurses cleaned her up and dressed her we were given time to spend with her. She was wheeled in on a bed of ice. I held her and cried. I could literally feel my heart shatter as I held her icy cold hands, willing her eyes to open.

My last memory of that night is of Pat holding her in his arms at the window. He spoke to her in such a soft gentle voice telling her about the stars. He wanted her to see the stars just once.... She never got to see them, but she went one better and became one.

Now everytime I look at the stars I think of my baby girl.

We will never know exactly what went wrong. And sadly that is the case for so many mothers. But we know that she was loved and is always with us.